


Something In The Wind

by xenadragon_xoxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Halloween, M/M, Romance, Song Lyrics, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenadragon_xoxo/pseuds/xenadragon_xoxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things tended to happen to Harry on Halloween. He always lost or gained something on the 31st of October, and it somewhat frightened him that he wasn’t sure which one it was going to be. This time, he had a feeling he was going to lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In The Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Something In The Wind
> 
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, implied Ron/Hermione
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Warning(s): EWE, a fair amount of angst (don't worry, the ending won't bite), and a mention of a non-graphic sexual situation.
> 
> Word Count: 2207
> 
> Author's/Artist's Notes: Written for day four of Tricks for Treats on hd_writers on LJ. The prompts were "a murder of crows", "hiding all the candy", and Sally's Song by Fiona Apple. This is, essentially, a song fic.

Things tended to happen to Harry on Halloween.

 

His parents were murdered by Voldemort on Halloween, when he was just one year old. He became friends with Hermione, a most indispensible companion, starting Halloween of his First Year at Hogwarts. The following year, on the same date, the Chamber of Secrets was reopened for the first time in fifty years. The next year, Sirius tried to get into Gyrffindor Tower, and then the year after that, he was chosen as fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

 

Harry didn’t like Halloween much. He always lost or gained something on the 31st of October, and it somewhat frightened him that he wasn’t sure which one it was going to be. This time, he had a feeling he was going to lose.

 

_I sense there's something in the wind  
That seems like tragedy's at hand_

 

Harry glanced out the window, trying to occupy himself, trying to do anything to stop himself from looking at Draco, because he was afraid that if he looked, he wouldn’t be able to prevent a litany of words from spilling out of his mouth.

 

There was a murder of crows in his front yard. If that wasn’t a bad omen, Harry didn’t know what was. If it wasn’t enough that Professor Trelawney would have screamed theatrically if Harry had a crow in his cup of tea leaves, the name of a group of crows itself was “murder”. Harry didn’t want to be a pessimist, but the crows spoke for themselves.

 

“Harry, look at me,” Draco called. Harry obeyed, and turned towards him.

 

Standing before him, Draco’s face was carefully arranged in a perfect mask of indifference. His eyes were cold, almost empty, and every time Harry looked into them, it hurt. Merlin, it hurt.

 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Draco said.

 

_And though I'd like to stand by him_  
 _Can't shake this feeling that I have_  
 _The worst is just around the bend_

 

Harry knew they couldn’t. Keeping their relationship a secret from the world was far too difficult, and far too damaging for both of them. It was Harry’s fault for insisting on keeping it quiet for so long, and only telling Ron and Hermione about it. He’d unwittingly made Draco think he was ashamed of him, which wasn’t true. He was only worried for Draco’s safety, and what would happen to him if the world knew that he was romantically involved with the Boy Who Lived. He’d pushed Draco away for far too long. It was all his fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, but it didn’t quite sound like he meant it, and really, he shouldn’t have to mean it. Draco didn’t have to apologise for anything. He hadn’t said or done anything wrong.

 

Harry couldn’t think of a single word to say that would make him stay, so he just watched Draco walk out the front door.

 

* * *

 

Harry stayed exactly where Draco left him for a few hours, completely crippled and unable to move. It wasn’t until he heard Ron and Hermione come in through the Floo that he realised he’d missed his lunch appointment with them.

 

He knew that his two best mates had never fully understood why he stuck with Draco. It wasn’t as if Draco ever made much of an effort to be nice to them, or if they bothered trying to be nice to him. It had been especially hard for Hermione, who had been hurt by Draco’s taunting multiple times in their childhood, to tolerate Draco’s presence in Harry’s life. They always asked, “Do you love him?”, and Harry honestly wished that they wouldn’t ask, because he knew that his answer would never be the one they wanted to hear.

 

_And does he notice my feelings for him?_  
 _And will he see how much he means to me?_  
 _I think it's not to be_  


“What’s happened, mate?” Ron asked, and Harry could barely speak clearly enough to properly answer him.

 

Hermione, ever the intelligent one, seemed to understand immediately, and went to make Harry a cup of tea. After a few glances from her to Ron, Ron seemed to get it, too.

 

The next hour passed in what Harry could only describe as awkward consolations. Hermione never left his side and Ron distracted him as well as he could with funny stories from work, but eventually they simply resorted to sitting quietly with him. They shook their heads and patted Harry’s back and said that they were sorry, but Harry knew that they were secretly glad that he’d let go of Draco. That’s what he had done, right? Let go of him, allowed him to walk out the door?

 

_What will become of my dear friend?  
Where will his actions lead us then?_

 

Hermione was very kind about it, although Harry could hear a form of reluctant relief ringing clear and true in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said, and although it was unfair of him, Harry wanted to hex the next person who apologised to him like that. He was tired of people acting like they cared when they were just glad he’d gotten over his “phase”. It wasn’t a phase, anyway. Draco had never been just a phase to him.

 

A while later, Ron tried to reassure him, too. “You deserved so much better, mate,” he said, but that was the problem – Draco had already been so much better than Harry deserved. Over the turbulent year of their relationship, he’d attempted to envision dating other guys, just to please his friends, but the thought alone made him sick. The more men that Ron and Hermione introduced him to, the more Harry realised that he only ever wanted Draco. He’d tried to tell his friends that, but they didn’t seem to believe him, thinking he was disillusioned. Eventually, they had given up, thinking that Harry simply needed time to come to his senses, and they’d stopped talking to him regarding the matter. But the thing about people was when they stopped talking _to_ you, they started talking _about_ you.

 

“You’re just remembering the good times, Harry,” Hermione told him. “You’re not looking at it in full perspective yet. And I know you don’t want to hear this now, Harry, but if he really loved you, he wouldn’t have treated you that way.”

 

Harry wondered, as she spoke, if he had been hallucinating the whole time, and if all those days he remembered with such fondness when Draco was in his life weren’t all he’d thought they were. Maybe Draco had been pretending the whole time, and it was just the heated moments of passion that he had craved, and not Harry’s actual company. Maybe Harry had just made himself believe that Draco felt the same way about him.

 

But how could he have been imagining it? How could he have possibly imagined the warmth in Draco’s eyes as he thrust into him again and again, their moans filling the air, Harry’s name sweet on Draco’s lips as they came to completion? How could he have envisioned the way Draco kissed his forehead as Harry nestled into his chest, or the way Draco looked at him in the morning when he they woke up together? That had to be real...right?

 

After a while, Hermione and Ron had to leave. They invited him to their house, asking if he wanted to stay the night with them. He did want to, but he didn’t want to burden them any more than he already had, so he shook his head, smiled, and waved goodbye.

 

_Although I'd like to join the crowd_  
 _In their enthusiastic cloud_  
 _Try as I may, it doesn't last_

 

When they were gone, Harry walked to the window and glanced outside. The crows were still there, cawing loudly, as though mocking him. Sighing, Harry seated himself on the sofa, realising suddenly how much he missed Draco, and how much he wished that Draco was sitting here with him, comfortably huddled into his arms.

 

_And will we ever end up together?_  
 _No, I think not, it's never to become_  
 _For I am not the one_  


 

* * *

 

It was nearly ten o’clock when Harry was awakened suddenly by someone coming through the Floo again.

 

“Damn it, Ron, Hermione, I said I was fine!” he called, feeling far too lethargic to stand up and make his way to them. After a few seconds, there was no reply, and his friends didn’t step into the room. He was just about to assume that they had gone, having given up, when someone else stepped out from around the corner.

 

Harry’s jaw nearly dropped, and his heart, which had somewhat slowed during the last few distress-filled hours, stuttered completely to a stop for _one two_ beats, and then started again at a highly accelerated pace.

 

“Draco,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.

 

Draco glanced at his feet, then back at Harry, who stood up, his feet taking him nearer to Draco almost automatically. When Harry was close enough, he realised that Draco was still carefully concealing his expression, guarding whatever vulnerability he had with caution. Harry knew that if he wanted Draco to stay and if he didn’t want to have to watch him leave again, this time for good, he was going to have to find some words to say.

 

“Draco...” he repeated softly.

 

Draco refused to look at him, staring resolutely out the window. Harry wondered if the crows were still there, or if they had gone on to do more productive things with their lives.

 

“Stay,” Harry said.

 

Draco turned a cold stare on him. “Why should I?” he asked.

 

Harry felt his blood run cold. He was going to muck this all up if he didn’t think of something.

 

But what if Draco hadn’t come back for him? What if he was here to tell Harry he was leaving forever?

 

_And will we ever end up together?_  
 _No, I think not, it's never to become_  
 _For I am not the one_  


But that couldn’t be true. If Draco had no interest in him anymore, he would have laughed in Harry’s face. He wouldn’t even have found his way back here – he would have sent Harry a cordial, formal, forcibly polite owl. No, Draco wanted this, too. Harry could salvage this; he could make up for lost time. All he had to do was try.

 

“I don’t know what this is,” Harry said, some conviction finding its way into his voice. “But I do know that there’s something about you that makes it hard for me to let go of you. Call me selfish if you like, but no matter what, I still want to keep a part of you with me, and I really don’t know why that is.”

 

Draco was silent for several moments, and Harry was a little worried that he’d said the wrong thing. Then, Draco spoke, quietly. “Maybe it’s because although it’s stupid to hold onto something that’s wrong, it’s also stupid to let go of everything you’ve ever wanted.”

 

Harry didn’t know what happened next, or how it did, but all he knew was that he was suddenly greeted by an armful of Draco Malfoy, and that Draco was crushing his lips against Harry’s, hard enough to bruise. Harry couldn’t help the noise that escaped his throat as he tangled the fingers of his right hand into Draco’s hair, his left arm wrapping around Draco’s hips and pulling him impossibly closer. He felt one of Draco’s hands come up to tenderly cup his cheek, the other gripping his arm tightly enough to leave marks.

 

When they came up for air, Harry was grinning. “Is that why you came back?” he asked. “To snog me senseless?”

 

“Do I need a better reason?” Draco smirked. “Although I do owe it to Granger and Weasley.”

 

Harry leaned back to look at him better, surprised. “What do you mean?”

 

“They managed to find me and send a couple of Stinging Hexes my way,” Draco replied, snorting.

 

“Did they really?” Harry asked, conflicted between rushing to them and showering them with thanks and sending a few of his own hexes in their general direction.

 

“Yes, but don’t worry about it,” Draco scoffed. “Weasley was rather brutal, but Granger was genial enough. She very kindly informed me that if I didn’t make sense of myself, she would perform a full Body-Bind curse on me and gladly ship me off to Pluto.”

 

Harry winced. “Harsh.”

 

“But necessary,” Draco chuckled. “We have a lot to talk about.”

 

“We do,” Harry agreed.

 

A short silence, and then Draco spoke again. “Honestly, though, that Granger has some pretty impressive tracking skills. No one else would have been able to find me.”

 

“Where were you?” Harry questioned.

 

Draco flushed a little. “I might have been going around Muggle neighbourhoods hiding several children’s candy to relieve some of the tension.”

 

Harry laughed, surprised by how not surprised he was. “That’s my Draco,” he grinned.

 

“That’s right,” Draco said seriously. “And you’d better never forget it. Now, how about relieving some of that tension in a more interesting way?”

 

Harry smiled and leaned in to kiss Draco again. Perhaps Halloween wasn’t so bad after all.

_End_


End file.
